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Felix has been yelling obscenities in the direction of the door for nearly twenty straight minutes, now, and Dimitri’s continued silence is only making him angrier. His hair has come loose from its bun, hanging around his face, and he’s been too angry to try and put it up again. His fingers keep twitching around his waist for a sword that isn’t there, and there are too many emotions flowing through him to properly identify. All he knows is that he’s angry, and he’s scared, and he’s something else that only ever happens when he’s around Dimitri, too -- some kind of mixture of grief and something else that he refuses to look at head on.
They were only supposed to be bandits.
Dimitri is curled up on the floor of their dingy room, head buried in his hands. Felix has been trying to ignore him, but every part of him is always aware of where Dimitri is and it’s no different now. Instead he tries to figure out what the hell happened, and how the hell they can get out of there.
It shouldn’t have happened like this. It was just a routine mission from Rhea, a hoard of bandits that had set up in an abandoned fort; at least that’s what they had been told, until they showed up to find a group of mages with spells like nothing they had seen before. Dimitri had rushed ahead and Felix had torn after him, because someone had to watch the idiot’s back and the Professor had positioned Dedue too far away for him to do the job. And then it had felt like invisible ropes had wrapped around him and his limbs had been snapped to his sides as he collapsed into the dirt. He and Dimitri had been dragged into the fort and thrown in here, but not before a man with limbs that looked just the slightest bit too long had bent over Dimitri and pushed a needle into his neck.
Felix is trying not to think about that. Felix is trying not to think about Dimitri dying here, captive, with only Felix there to watch. Felix is only focusing on what he can do to get them out of here, so that he can get Dimitri to a healer, so that he can stop feeling all that he’s feeling. Granted, the only thing he can really do is yell obscenities at the door, hoping that one of the guards will come to shut him up and Felix can hopefully disarm him, but at least it means he’s doing something. He’s not sitting there waiting to be rescued. And if he yells loud enough, he won’t hear the noises Dimitri has been making, the soft whimpers of pain and his shallow breathing.
“Felix,” Dimitri says, quiet enough that Felix can pretend he can’t hear it. He continues to yell taunts through the bars on the door, and continues to be ignored, when he hears Dimitri again.
“Felix, I -- I don’t think that’s going to do anything, and it’s -- my head, it’s splitting, I --”
Felix spins around to bitch Dimitri out for essentially telling him to shut up, but when he sees him he stops dead, because now that Dimitri is sitting up and facing him Felix can see how flushed he is, how absurdly bright his eyes are, how much he’s sweating and the ragged way he’s breathing. Felix’s eyes widen as he steps towards where Dimitri is, but he stops when Dimitri puts up his hands as if to ward him off.
“No, Felix, please --”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were this bad, you idiot?” Dimitri shakes his head, and Felix says, “Don’t even fucking try and deny it, Boar, look at you. Fuck.” He turns back towards the door and leans close to it, yelling out as loud as he can, “We need a healer, unless you want to be responsible for the death of the Crown Prince of Faerghus.”
“Felix --”
“Do you hear me? We --”
“Felix, they won’t listen. They did this, didn’t you see? They knew I could die.”
Felix turns back to Dimitri and tries to stop panic from flooding his limbs. “Did they tell you what they gave you? Did they say anything at all?”
Something that might have been a smile flashed briefly across Dimitri’s face. “Nothing very helpful,” he says, teeth gritted in pain. Felix swears again.
“Did they say anything? Come on, Boar, be a little fucking useful, will you?”
“It’s… a little more complicated than you think.”
Felix grabs him by the front of his shirt -- they’d been thoroughly stripped of anything useful -- and just barely resists the urge to shake him. “Just tell me what the fuck this is so I can help you, you idiot!”
Dimitri leans his head back and closes his eyes. “They said it was some… experimental… plant… extract… maybe? I don’t know, he was talking really fast, but the gist of it is… well, it’s some kind of aphrodisiac, he said, but amplified by, by magic. I don’t know, I don’t know, I didn’t understand what he was saying --”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Felix asks. His brain appears to be short circuiting. “What do you mean, aphrodisiac?”
“Felix,” Dimitri says, and his bullshit demeanor that he always wears like a shield drops, momentarily, as he almost hisses at Felix in frustration. “What do you think?” And then he uncurls himself, sits up even more and spreads his legs and Felix can’t stop his eyes from travelling down to where Dimitri’s erection is pressing up, not impeded in the least by the thin clothes he had been wearing beneath his armour. He stares at it in shock for longer than is strictly necessary, but he can’t help himself from thinking, in wonder, that they weren’t supposed to be that big.
He finally forces himself to look away, but when he looks back up at Dimitri he is suddenly struck with the realization that the way Dimitri is acting, the flush on his cheeks and the brightness in his eyes, his ragged breathing and the moans he’s been making aren’t because he’s sick, but because he’s -- because he’s --
Felix swallows; his mouth is very, very dry. “Well then why don’t you just --” he gestures vaguely, “take care of it?”
Dimitri makes an amused sort of noise. “I already have,” he says, and Felix’s mouth drops open as he processes that, as he realizes that Dimitri had been touching himself while Felix had been just feet away, yelling at the guards. “It didn’t work, it didn’t… go down,” Dimitri says this last part very quietly, but Felix hears every word, and he feels his face go red as his eyes drop down, seemingly against his will, to look once again at Dimitri’s cock.
“What the fuck,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck --”
This was just unfair. Of all the things that could have happened, with all the people, it had to be this, and it had to be Dimitri, and it had to be him. Why had he run after the idiot? If he wanted to run into battle without a care for anything then Felix should have let him, should have let him get himself captured by himself, maybe it would teach him. This is the worst possible situation he could ever imagine being in. Why did it have to be him? Why couldn’t it have been Dedue, who’d do anything for Dimitri, or even Sylvain, who knew about this kind of shit, or even just a fucking healer --
“How do you feel?” He asks, which sounds like a stupid question, so he elaborates. “I mean, whatever this poison is, what is it… is it causing you pain? What are your symptoms?” Maybe if he treats this like a regular wound he’ll be able to pretend, but Dimitri just laughs, and it’s just unhinged enough to make a chill run down Felix’s spine.
“My symptoms,” Dimitri says hoarsely. “My symptoms…” He must be in pain, Felix thinks. He’s seen Dimitri in pain enough times to know what he looks like, and he can see it underneath his flushed cheeks and dilated pupils, can see how tense he is, can hear it in his voice. He’s nearly delirious with it, Felix realizes, as Dimitri continues to laugh quietly to himself. Whatever kind of fucked up poison they’d given him, it wasn’t just making him horny, it was hurting him. But Dimitri just continues to laugh, no matter what Felix asks him, and eventually Felix loses his patience and grabs the front of Dimitri’s shirt again, hauling him close.
Two things happen at once -- his fingers curl in Dimitri’s collar and rest against his bare skin, and at the contact Dimitri makes a noise that is so obscene that Felix releases him like he’d been burned, taking a step back.
“ What was --”
“I’m sorry,” Dimitri says weakly, slumping against the wall and tipping his head back, eyes closed. “I’m sorry, your hands -- they felt good, it’s -- everything is hot --”
Felix is running entirely on adrenaline right now, being pushed forward on instinct alone. He hates Dimitri (he does he does he does) but Felix is a Fraldarius, and this is the entire purpose of a Fraldarius -- keep the king alive.
Deep down, he knows this is an excuse. He knows it is more than tradition that is propelling him forward. But if he hides behind his name, he doesn’t have to think about the fact that every word he’s spat venomously at Dimitri’s feet has been a lie.
He steps forward and places a hand on Dimitri’s collarbone, fingers spread wide, and the effect is almost instantaneous; Dimitri sighs, a deeply contented noise spilling from his lips that sits heavy in Felix’s stomach, and when he opens his eyes they seem clearer.
“Thank you,” Dimitri says, words coming slower and with more surety, no longer frenzied muttering. “My skin feels like it’s on fire, and you -- it helps, a lot. When you… when you touch me.”
Felix wonders briefly what, exactly, he has done to deserve this, before he shakes that thought aside. “What does it feel like? I need you to tell me what’s happening so I can figure out if there’s anything I can do.”
“There’s nothing you can do,” Dimitri says immediately. Felix scowls.
“Don’t be a fucking martyr, Boar, just tell me --”
“ Felix. There is nothing you can do --”
“Why are you being so fucking stubborn, just --”
“Because he told me,” Dimitri says, averting his eyes. “Because he told me how to stop it. I -- I think it’s almost like a game to them. He grinned when he…”
“Can you give me a straight answer for once,” Felix hisses, wrapping his other hand around the back of Dimitri’s neck, hoping it will help him more so that maybe they can hold an actual conversation.
“You don’t understand,” Dimitri says, even as he relaxes into Felix’s touch. “Don’t you see? He said the only way to get this to stop is with… outside help.” Felix hears these words and freezes; if he could move he’d have ripped his hands away from Dimitri, but all he can focus on is how loud his heartbeat is in his ears. “They planned this,” Dimitri continues to say. “They needed two people for the experiment.” Felix continues to stay silent, still frozen in front of Dimitri, who has still not looked him in the eye. “It’s alright,” Dimitri says, even though Felix is pretty sure that absolutely nothing about this situation is alright. “I’m sure we will be found soon. I’m sure the Professor will save us.”
This wasn’t fair. It’s all that Felix can think, the only thought that runs through his fuzzy brain. This wasn’t fair. It’s not fair that it’s happening like this. It’s not fair that it’s happening to them. Felix can’t think of a worse person to be stuck in this situation with. He has spent two years distancing himself from Dimitri, burning down their friendship until he could almost forget that he was the person Felix loved most in the world, after his brother. He had lost them both, that day, and it wasn’t okay but he was dealing with it, and this is not fair, because what is he supposed to do? Does he watch Dimitri die, or does he --
Does he --
He closes his eyes. The truth of the matter is he already knows what he’s going to do, because no matter what it is, even if it’s this, if the only other option is to let Dimitri die then that’s no option at all. It’s a horrible realization to have at quite possibly the worst time, that no matter what he said, no matter what horrible things he’d seen from Dimitri, despite all of that, he’d still do whatever it took to keep Dimitri alive. Despite everything that happened and everything he’d seen, the thought of sitting here and watching Dimitri die was too much to consider. This newfound knowledge sits heavy on his soul, that no matter how much he claims to hate him, Felix would still do anything to save him.
He’s just as bad as Glenn.
"And if they don't?" He finally asks. His hands are still on Dimitri’s skin, hot beneath his palms. "If they don't get here in time? We don't know anything about what they gave you."
Dimitri shakes his head. "I won't ask you to --"
"You're not asking," Felix says, annoyed. "And what's the other option? That you die?"
"Felix --"
"Shut up," Felix says viciously, desperately. "Stop pretending. Stop acting like a perfect fucking martyr. Stop acting like dying here is the noble thing to do. There's no fucking honour in dying, Boar, so act like the goddamn animal you are and save yourself."
Dimitri finally looks at him, and it's like Felix giving him permission has flipped some kind of switch, because the way he looks at Felix is so intense that Felix feels as if he's burning up. He looks like he wants to eat Felix alive.
To his horror and dismay, his stomach clenches and his cock twitches in interest. If Dimitri notices it, though, he doesn't say anything. Instead he takes Felix's hand from where it still rests on his collarbone, and he gently rubs Felix's knuckles over his cheek.
"You will think me even more of a beast now," Dimitri says, but before Felix can respond Dimitri takes Felix's fingers into his mouth and sucks. Felix lets out a strangled noise and tries to jerk his hand away out of instinct, but Dimitri’s grip on his wrist is strong, so Felix can only kneel there and stare at the way Dimitri’s lips stretch around his fingers. He can feel Dimitri’s tongue press against his fingertips, and he doesn’t understand how something so objectively gross could make his stomach do flips.
Dimitri draws Felix’s fingers out of his mouth slowly, moving his lips down his palm and to his wrist, mouthing at Felix’s pulse point. Felix is having trouble breathing, and he’s almost certain his heart has just stopped beating. He didn’t think it would be like this. He figured he’d give Dimitri a sloppy handjob and then never look him in the eye ever again. That would have been bad enough. But this? Dimitri, voice pitched low, eyes bright and Felix’s favourite shade of blue, like he’d just walked out of Felix’s darkest fantasies, the dreams he’d deny having until his dying day -- this is too much. He’s so far out of his element.
“Felix,” Dimitri says, kissing up Felix’s arm, leaving a steady trail of saliva, and it isn’t sexy at all but it still makes Felix’s cock throb. He wonders if Dimitri has done this before, with some giggling girl who would only be using him for his status, or with Dedue, maybe. The thought makes him… annoyed, angry, upset, jealous, too many things to focus on when Dimitri is still pressing his lips to Felix’s skin.
“Boar,” Felix says, trying to sound angry so Dimitri doesn’t hear the way his voice shakes. “Just get it over with.” He jerks his arm out of Dimitri’s grip and tugs at Dimitri’s waistband. If he doesn’t think about it too deeply maybe he can pretend this is just a business transaction. Just like dressing someone’s wound. When Dimitri’s cock springs free Felix barely looks at it, moving quickly and wrapping a hand around it before he can lose his nerve.
Dimitri groans when Felix touches him, head dropping back against the wall and hips jerking up. His cock is hard and heavy in Felix’s hand, and when he chances a look down it looks huge in his hand. Felix watches as he starts to slowly drag his hand up and down it, thumb trailing along the underside. Dimitri bites his lip, and Felix shifts slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position, trying to ignore the way his own cock is straining against his pants. He’s hoping Dimitri is too caught up in his own issues to have noticed that Felix is getting turned on, too.
“Felix,” Dimitri sighs out again. Felix really wishes he’d stop saying his name like that. Dimitri’s cock is leaking pre-cum at such a rate that Felix is pretty sure it’s a side effect of the poison, but it helps, and Felix finds himself going a little faster, a little harder. Dimitri likes this, judging from the way he pants and rocks his hips, but it might also just be that at this point, Dimitri would like anything. He finds that he isn’t just doing what he knows he likes, he’s trying to find out what Dimitri likes, and if his ears could turn any redder they would. He shouldn’t want to know what Dimitri likes.
It really isn’t that long until Dimitri comes, spilling over Felix’s hand, and Felix doesn’t look at his face because he knows he won’t be able to stop himself from memorizing the way Dimitri looks like at the height of pleasure. If he sees it he’ll never be able to stop seeing it, every time he closes his eyes.
The problem quickly becomes apparent, though, when Dimitri’s cock doesn’t seem to soften even a little. Felix stares at it, waiting, as if at any moment it will remember what it’s supposed to do after it comes, but it stares back, still fully erect.
“Did that do anything?” He asks, exasperated.
“Yes,” Dimitri says, still breathless. “It doesn’t hurt as much, when you touch me.”
Felix considers this, but Dimitri continues to speak.
“Felix, you’ve done enough. You don’t have to keep help --” Felix leans forward and licks up Dimitri’s cock, and Dimitri cuts off, hissing as his hand immediately comes up to grab a handful of Felix’s hair. He continues to babble, saying Felix didn't need to do this, always disgustingly polite, and Felix, in a bid to shut him up, opens his mouth and shoves himself down onto Dimitri’s cock. He goes too far, choking almost immediately and pulling back, but he succeeds, at least, as Dimitri stops talking and instead just groans, hand clenching in Felix’s hair. The taste is… interesting, and Felix can’t really decide if it’s gross or not. He takes the head of Dimitri’s cock into his mouth again, circling it with his tongue, trying to pretend that this is normal, or that it’s not happening, or that it’s, at the very least, not Dimitri.
It’s not that he doesn’t want it to be Dimitri. It’s that he wants it too much.
He relaxes his jaw, tries to take more, wrapping his hand around the lower half that he can’t reach. Dimitri is getting more and more incoherent, his hand tightening in Felix’s hair, and he’s quickly losing control of his hips, jerking them up, driving himself deeper down Felix’s throat as the grip on his hair keeps him still, and Felix really, really doesn’t hate it. It’s taking everything in him not to touch himself, but he can’t bring himself to admit that he’s enjoying this more than he should.
Once again, it doesn’t take much of Felix’s sloppy, inexperienced blowjob before Dimitri is gasping out his name and dragging Felix up by his hair, coming across his stomach again. Felix stretches his jaw out and wipes his mouth and watches as Dimitri’s cock doesn’t give the first hint of flagging.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Dimitri says, as Felix tries to figure out what the fuck he’s supposed to do now.
“Boar,” he says, horrified at the slight hoarseness in his voice. “Did they say anything else?”
Dimitri doesn’t open his eyes, but he does start to feel around him, until he finds whatever he’s looking for underneath his crumpled shirt, and he pushes it into Felix’s hand. “They told me it would make it easier,” he says, voice low and ashamed, and Felix looks down at the vial of oil in his hand.
Dimitri says, “Felix,” but Felix cuts him off before he can hear what he’s going to say.
“Alright,” he says brusquely.
“Felix, no,” Dimitri says, but Felix can see from his movements and facial expressions that it’s starting to ramp up again, starting to get painful now that Felix isn’t touching him anymore. “That’s too far. I will not ask this of you.”
“You don’t seem to be aware of what’s at stake here,” Felix says peevishly. “Do you think this will just wear off? Why would they have captured two people then? Why wouldn’t they have just tried it out themselves? You don’t think, Boar. There is no other option.”
“Of course there is,” Dimitri says. Felix thinks not when it involves you leaving me and then shakes his head. Dimitri had already left him. He needed to stop letting himself have thoughts like that.
“Just shut up and get on with it,” he says, and despite the gruffness of his words he can feel his cheeks starting to heat up. “Use your fingers first.”
“I --” Dimitri trips over his words before he finally manages to get out, “How do you -- have you --”
“It’s none of your fucking business,” Felix bites out, but then he says, “But no, you moron. Sylvain is just disgusting and likes to kiss and tell.”
Dimitri has an expression on his face that Felix can’t read; he reaches out and lays his hand on Dimitri’s skin again. “Just do it, Boar,” he says, and after another unreadable look Dimitri moves forward, pushing Felix back and back and back until he’s lying flat on the floor. Dimitri hovers above him, his face all that Felix can see, and he wonders if Dimitri is going to kiss him.
He wonders if he’ll let him.
But Dimitri just puts his hands on Felix’s hips and tugs at his pants, pulling them down and off, throwing them to the side before he takes the oil from Felix’s hand. He doesn’t mention how embarrassingly hard Felix is, but he does wrap a large hand around his cock. Felix hisses and tries to jerk away.
“Don’t,” he grits out. Dimitri removes his hand, but he says, “If we do this… I would like to make you feel good, too.”
Felix can’t think of anything worse. “This isn’t about feeling good,” he says. “It’s about making sure you don’t die.”
Dimitri remains still for a beat, but eventually he unstoppers the oil. “If you want me to stop, please tell me. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Felix almost laughs. It was far too late for that.
“Just hurry up,” he says, closing his eyes. He has a brief thought that he could pretend it was someone else doing this to him, but the sick truth is the only person he’s ever wanted to do this is Dimitri.
Felix isn’t entirely new to fingers in his ass, but Dimitri’s are much thicker than his. Dimitri moves slowly but Felix can tell that it’s a struggle, that whatever is flowing through him right now is making him frantic and desperate. Felix has never used more than two fingers on himself, but Dimitri works him up to three, and he’s not even sure that will be enough, given the size of Dimitri’s cock. It’s slow, and Dimitri is nearly vibrating with energy, but he keeps up a steady pace, being almost overly slow. It eventually gets to the point that even if he’s not completely ready, Felix tells him to get it over with; he’d rather a bit of pain than this, because he feels so full with Dimitri’s fingers inside of him, and he keeps accidentally crooking his fingers in just the right way that Felix is afraid he’s going to bite through his own tongue in an attempt to stop himself from moaning.
“Are you su --”
“Ask me that again and I’ll kill you, Boar. Come on.”
Dimitri looks like he wants to protest more but physically can’t; instead he spreads the oil on his cock and then, keeping an eye on Felix’s face, he slowly -- so fucking slowly -- pushes into Felix. At first he thinks huh, this isn’t that bad, but then it just keeps going, impossibly thick. He must grimace, or make some kind of face, because Dimitri stops immediately, looking panicked.
“It’s fine,” Felix grinds out before Dimitri can have some kind of panic attack. “Just go slowly.”
Dimitri does, face stuck on some kind of strange expression between anxious and pleasured. Felix feels like he’s being split; it feels like Dimitri is impossibly large, and he keeps going, even when Felix thinks there can’t possibly be more. It feels like it takes forever until Dimitri’s hips are finally pushed to his, and Dimitri lets out a stuttering breath, leaning forward so his forehead is pressed to Felix’s. His lips are obscenely wet, and Felix wants to bite them. The urge is so bad that he closes his eyes to block them out, but when he does that he starts to feel everything with more intensity; Dimitri’s breath across his face, his hands on the floor beside Felix’s head, the slide of his hips between Felix’s legs and his cock filling Felix so… perfectly. It’s a goddamn tragedy, how right it feels, how good, to have Dimitri so close. He hates himself for still being this weak when it came to Dimitri, for giving in so easily, for wanting to kiss him. As if this was anything more than a twisted, cracked version of a life he could never have.
“Felix,” Dimitri says, a low, drawn out thing, rolling his hips so slow, Felix’s cock trapped between their bellies. He clings to Dimitri’s shirt, head back against the cold stone of the floor, eyes screwed shut. As if closing his eyes could block out Dimitri, the smell, the feel of him, the way he runs a hand down Felix’s leg and hikes it up higher, panting heavily into Felix’s ear. He is everywhere, even inside of him. He is everything Felix’s future is supposed to be hurtling towards.
He’s a monster, he says to himself, over and over, he’s a monster, he’s a monster, but it gets stuck in a loop inside his head, over and over in time with the slap of Dimitri’s hips. Dimitri keeps saying Felix’s name, and the sound is going to haunt Felix forever, the way Dimitri is right now, the jagged moans and desperate clutch of his fingers against Felix’s thigh. He pushes forward a bit, angling Felix’s hips just the slightest amount, and Felix can’t hold back the noise that spills past his lips, as something a little like pleasure and a little like pain flashes up his spine. Dimitri does it again, and again, and Felix clutches at him as he whines, digging his face into Dimitri’s shoulder. “Felix,” Dimitri says, voice thick with some feeling that Felix can’t identify. “My Felix.”
He wants to deny it, wants to say no, to tell Dimitri to fuck off, but he can’t do anything except cling to him. And anyway, a part of him thinks, what is there to deny? For all that he had tried, for all that he had fought, for all the love he had tried to turn into hate, he’s still here, pinned beneath him, giving every single part of himself.
Felix says, “ Dimitri,” and then he comes.
Time slides together, and it could be seconds or minutes or hours until Dimitri slams his hips in deep and comes gasping Felix’s name.
There is a moment, then, when Dimitri pulls back the smallest amount and looks down into Felix’s eyes. There is so much there, and Felix can barely handle it. Dimitri is trying to tell him so much, and Felix doesn’t want to hear it.
He looks away.
There’s a scream from outside, and all of Felix’s nerves alight at once. “Get off me,” he says, shoving hard at Dimitri, who seems like he doesn’t even hear. His face isn’t as red anymore, and his eyes are clearer, and Felix can feel, finally, Dimitri’s cock soften inside of him. “Get off of me!” He says again, louder, and Dimitri finally seems to understand, pushing off of Felix and shoving himself back into his pants. Felix looks down at himself and swears; he has cum on his stomach and dripping out of his ass, but he doesn’t have time to even try and deal with that, so he puts his clothes back on and tries his best to wipe the cum off his shirt. There are shouts filling the air, and Felix thinks he hears something that might be Sylvain calling his name.
He turns around; Dimitri is still staring at him.
“Come on, Boar,” he says.
“Felix,” Dimitri says, voice broken. “I am so --”
“Don’t start,” he snaps. “It was a choice and we made it, so shut the fuck up and deal with it. We don’t have time for this.”
He definitely hears his name being called. He runs to the door and shouts through it, trying to alert someone to their position, and someone turns the corner and --
He could cry with relief when he sees the Professor. Part of him is annoyed at the fact that they couldn’t have gotten there half an hour earlier; a small part of him (but bigger than he’d like to admit) is almost glad that they didn’t.
“Felix,” Dimitri says, but the Professor gets there and opens the door and Felix is gone, running out the door as if he could leave everything that happened behind.